Pretty Face
by Morbid DramaQueen10
Summary: Perhaps she might be more than a pretty face. There might be some reasonably deep thoughts behind those oh-so lovely features. These next few years, her companionship might not be quite so tedious. He liked the thought of that. Rumpel/Belle, one-shot.


**Pretty Face **

**DISCLAIMER: OUAT isn't mine. **

**He had expected just a pretty face, but came to see so much more. **

**-XXX-**

Upon bringing her to his castle, he had expected her to weep. He'd thought she might scream, protest, beat him with small ivory fists, throw herself upon furniture in a storm of tears. But she didn't none of this. She was scared, true, quivering with fear. But she didn't bat an eye when he whisked her away from her father's manor. Indeed, Belle was rather stoic- - - -or, putting on a show of stoicism. He could appreciate this.

It wasn't until the next morning, when she brings him tea in the great hall, that he has a chance to fully examine her.

Symmetrical features. A defined jawline that looks as though it's quite used to stubbornly setting, thank-you-very-much. A smooth, clear forehead that has seen the stress of war, even though there no wrinkles to show it. There is the pert, delicate nose, flower-petal eyelids that are naturally blessed with a dusking of lilac. Rosy, glowing skin. Dewy lips, the colour of the center of a ripen peach. Her figure is trim, her limbs willowy. She truly lives up to her name. _Belle- - - _Beauty.

She is pretty. But he doesn't expect much else.

**-XXX-**

"Oh, and you will skin the children I hunt, for their pelts."

The girl visibly pales, dropping the teacup she was in the middle of passing to him. She gasps. He restrains a laugh.

"That one was a quip." The imp assures her, with a wink. "Not serious."

"Right," She gasps, before sinking to her knees. Her yellow silk gown pools around her, causing her to resemble a cream-puff. He makes note of this, deciding to bring down a few things for her later in the day. Dusting could only be hindered if one was clad in a puffy ball gown.

"Oh…my…I'm so sorry, but, uh…." She lifts the cup. "It's chipped. You—you can hardly see it."

He stares for a long moment, the firelight flickering off his pebbled skin. "It's just a cup."

Relieved, she stands to replace the now-chipped china onto the gilded tray. Well, what had she expected him to do? Eat her, alive and whole? He wasn't that much of a beastie. He'd cook her first, certainly.

Another quip. But he won't voice this one. She was already a little too skittish for his liking. He doesn't want her to think he was completely bananas.

Then again, she might not know what bananas are.

**-XXX-**

It's when he catches her reading, tucked on the landing of the grand staircase, that he begins to think perhaps she isn't so dull-witted as he once believed. A thick tome of philosophy that requires the balance of two hands is tucked into the folds of her skirt when she senses him approaching. Rumpelstilskin hasn't the faintest clue where she might've found it-she had come only with the clothes on her back-unless she happened to find the library in her week here. That was perfectly possible. As a cleaning lady, she technically had free run of the place.

Eyebrows raised, he extends unnaturally long (and dirty) fingers. She sighs heavily before turning over the text. He notes her hands- - - - red, chapped, with chipped, uneven nails. Being the daughter of a duke-lord-earl-baron-something, Belle has probably seen little labor in her young life. Indeed, he is surprised. She's done remarkably well with the cleaning, considering she's most likely had to teach herself everything. He highly doubts his library contains a book outlining the finer points of maintaining a castle.

His large pupils scan the cover before tossing the book back to her.

"I prefer fiction, myself." That is, if he ever read- - - - which he doesn't. Scheming and spinning take up the majority of his schedule.

Her smile is surprisingly bitter. "I did too, until I realized the danger of it."

"Danger?"

"You see," She hugs the philosophy text to her chest. "Fiction causes you to start dreaming."

_Dreaming? _

He isn't sure what is so wrong with dreaming, nor what might cause her to dislike the occasional fairy-story. But one look into her blue-green, almond-shaped eyes - - - -had he missed that before? They're not merely "_pretty," _but _"gorgeous,"-_- - - -tells him that Belle is being perfectly serious.

**-XXX-**

He was surprised again to find her singing a folk song whilst dusting the hall. Three weeks after her arrival, she's comfortable enough to sing. He finds it delightful, until he hears the words.

_I wish I was on yonder hill_

_'Tis there I'd sit and cry my fill,_

_And every tear would turn a mill,_

_I'll sell my rock, I'll sell my reel,_

_I'll sell my only spinning wheel,_

_To buy my love a sword of steel_

_I'll dye my petticoats, I'll dye them red,_

_And 'round the world I'll beg my bread,_

_Until my parents shall wish me dead…._

He snarled. She is young; what does she know of loss, of war, of mourning? Something akin to anger rises in his hollow chest. "Great sadness, that song."

She jumps. After eying him warily, she answers softly, "Yes, I suppose there is."

"One of your age has no concept of misery, or loss."

This stiffens her spin swiftly. Belle stared up icily. _She's gotten brave, _He reflects internally.

"I feel as though being snatch from my home and family might justify a particular feeling of loss. But clearly, you're the expert." Raising her head, she snatched up her dusting rag. "Excuse me."

With that, she left.

He watches her move down the hall, her hips switch.

Perhaps she might be more than a pretty face. There might be some reasonably deep thoughts behind those oh-so lovely features. These next few years, her companionship might not be quite so tedious.

He liked the thought of that.

**-XXX-**

**I am on a roll!**

**What can I say, I'm in a one-shot mood. Three in one day….I might shoot for four. Maybe. **

**Anyways, I hope you've enjoyed this snippet. Please review! Also, please check out my other OUAT one-shots. **

**P.S. The song I used here is the traditional celtic number Siuil a Run. **

**Please review!**


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